It’s on the days like this,

Darling,

That you are going to forget,

Who you are,

And what you can do.

On these days,

Let me remind you,

That a day,

Is only twelve hours,

And a night,

Is only twelve more,

So forgetting,

Only lasts so long.

And when the day,

Stretches into more days,

And those into weeks,

Never forget,

That I know,

Who you are,

And that when,

You want to find yourself again,

Call me,

Because this is what I will say:

You are your wispy black hair,

That falls to the middle of your back.

You are your wire rimmed glasses,

Which slip constantly down your nose.

You are your closet full,

Of Maine sweatshirts,

An obession that never fades.

You are the yellow heart-shaped sunglasses,

Your great aunt gave you.

You are your saffron colored socks,

That have holes,

In the toes and heels.

You are your pale green eyes,

Which darken when you are sad.

You are the black glitter,

You have in jars on your dresser.

You are the bean plants,

Growing in coke cans,

On the porch.

You are all the sunrises,

And sunsets you have watched.

And my darling,

You are you.

So when your forgetting,

Hits week four tomorrow,

Please don’t forget,

Me.

Because then,

We will both forget ourselves,

And I do not want,

To have to forget,

You,

Because you,

Are the most beautiful thing,

I have come across,

In the world,

Where people,

Forget,

Forgive,

And find themselves.

So darling,

Please don’t forget me,

Tomorrow while watching,

The sunrise,

Because I don’t want,

To be able to write,

Real poetry,

About heartbreak,

Because of you.